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Hello Everyone,

One of the most inspiring persons I have met at the Rave Reviews Book Club (RRBC), the home for RRBC and RWISA Writers, is Harriet Hodgson. This spunky woman has written 42 books and is still writing. She truly embodies what RRBC is all about. Thus, it is a pleasure and an honor to have the woman I have titled Lady Harriet on my author’s website.
Welcome, Lady Harriet!

Harriet, having forty-two books circulating throughout the world, do you ever suffer from the dreaded disease authors know as writer’s block?

Harriet’s answer:

Writer’s block. Say these words to an author and they may wince. I’ve heard dozens of writer’s block stories. I’ve seen television movies about writer’s block. I have friends who talk about writer’s block constantly. Sorry as I am for these writers, I don’t understand them.

A writer’s job is to write and that’s what I do. 

         All writers, including me, have times when the words don’t come. My solution is to take a short break and figure out the problem. I’m a nonfiction writer. When I can’t find the words, it usually means more research is required. First, I search my bookshelf for resources that may help.  Next, I surf the internet and look for articles that may help.

         An hour later I’m back writing. 

         I’m so busy writing I don’t have time for writer’s block. My goal is to write each day. Whether it’s warm-ups with email messages, revising yesterday’s copy, or editing copy, I meet this goal unless I have medical or family appointments. Does the goal of daily writing work? You bet. This goal has led to 42 published books. Yesterday I started a new book and it’s shaping up well.

Harriet’s latest book is Grief Doodling.

Blurb:

From the very first page, Grief Doodling invites action. Topics range from the benefits of doodling, to why doodling is fun, to doodling tips, and responding to doodling prompts. The prompts, based on grief research, promote self-worth and healing. This is a hopeful book—something all grieving kids need.

Twitter handle:  @healthMN1

Facebook URL: https://facebook.com/harriet.hodgson.7

Website address   www.harriethodgson.com

For those of you that may not know Harriet, here is a Brief Bio of this awesome Lady.

Harriet Hodgson, BS, MA has been a freelance writer for 42+ years, is the author of thousands of print/online articles and 42 books. She is a member of the Association of Health Care Journalists, Alliance of Independent Authors, and Minnesota Coalition for Death Education and Support. 

Harriet is Assistant Editor of the Open to Hope website. She is a contributing writer for www.opentohope.com, The Grief Toolbox, and “Grief Digest,” now an online magazine.

A popular speaker, Harriet has given presentations at The Compassionate Friends national conference, Bereaved Parents of the USA national conference, public health, Alzheimer’s, and caregiving conferences. She has appeared on more than 185 radio shows, including CBS Radio, and dozens of television stations, including CNN.This award-winning author loves writing so much she writes in her sleep. GriefDoodling: Bringing Back Your Smiles, written and illustrated by Harriet, is her latest book. 

Thank you for dropping by to support Harriet along her tour.  To follow along with the rest of her 7-day tour, please visit the “SPOTLIGHT” Author forum on the RRBC site and don’t forget to pick up a copy of her book above!  Lastly, we ask that you LIKE and SHARE this post, as well as the “SPOTLIGHT” Author page, to your social media, to enhance Harriet’s support!

RRBC “SPOTLIGHT” Author Banner

Have a nice day!

Shalom aleichem,

Pat Garcia

Kathie Mae sat and stared at her surroundings; everything was in place just like he liked it.

The cream coloured sofa just at the right angle, three meters away but right in front of the large floor to ceiling window that faced the street before their house. The window sparkled. The brightness from the sun shining heftily through it. The mahogany wood piano, opened, displaying its ivory black and white keys, and a portrait of her hanging over it, singing.

Kathie Mae looked at the portrait and examined the eyes of the woman she no longer knew. Yes, the eyes in the picture were brighter, livelier, and mischievous filled with hope and the desire to conquer the world. Where had all that gone?

The clock ticked away the minutes; her heartbeat quickened with every passing minute.

Soon he would be home.  In an hour or two, Kathie Mae would have to stop her wandering mind from going back to the past.  

Whoever thought that having everything that money could buy meant fulfilment had to be gravely disturbed she thought and heard Louisa knock softly on the living room door.

“Come in, Louisa.”

“I don’t mean to disturb you, but I’ll be leaving soon. Is there anything else you want me to do?”

“No,” Kathie Mae said and gave her a hollow smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “What are you going to do this weekend, Louisa?”

“I’m going to do what I do here every day,” Louisa said. “I’m going to clean my house.”

Kathie Mae chuckled. She’d talked to Cesare about reducing Louisa’s days to three times a week, but he’d insisted that she had to come every day except Sunday. When he returned home, he wanted to see an orderly, well-kept house without any clutter. That when she’d begun to notice that well-kept meant everything including her.

“Well, take some time to enjoy your Sunday, Louisa. Everybody needs rest.”

“I will.  If I had a husband like yours, I’d be in Heaven,” Louisa said. “It would be so nice to wake up and not have to do anything.”

Kathie Mae shuddered at Louisa’s words. The woman didn’t know what she was asking for.

Would she really like living in a cage?  The changes Kathie Mae had had to undergo bombarded her mind.

Black men love long hair, white men love afros, but what about what women like. Were there no women in the world outside of the Stepford Wives?  

Cesare had told her to get rid of her coils. Why were they so distasteful and unruly for him? Afro, he’d shouted, Afro!  An Afro was what Cesare expected her to wear. Little by little, he’d whittled away at her until she’d become the pretty hull that he wanted her to be.

Soon, she didn’t recognise who she was. When she looked into her mirror, she saw Cesare’s creation. The one he wanted to come home too. She’d managed to save only a tiny small piece of who she was hidden deep inside her and would visit whenever she could.

“Are you alright, Ms. Kathie Mae?” Louisa asked, frowning.

She had drifted so deep into the small piece of herself that she’d forgotten that Louisa was standing before her.

“Yes…Louisa. I’m sorry…No need to tell Mr. Domenico…about this. I…was just thinking about what you said,” Kathie Mae said.

“Okay, I won’t mention it this time, but I don’t want you to slip away like that. You scared me. Mr. Domenico said it’s dangerous when you slip away.”

“I’m alright, Louisa. I didn’t slip away. I was just thinking about what you said, ”Kathie Mae repeated even though she didn’t remember what Louisa had said.

“Good, then I would like to leave early if it is alright with you,” Louisa said.

“Sure, why don’t you do that,” Kathie Mae said, “I’m waiting on Cesare to come home just as he wants me too.”

“When are you going to sing again?” Louisa asked.

“Sing? Oh yes…I did sing once, didn’t I.”

“Why don’t you know, Ms. Kathie Mae?”  Louisa asked. “You sing so beautifully, with heart and soul.”

“One day…Louisa…one day, I’ll tell you all about it,” Kathie Mae said. “Now go home.”

Kathie Mae heard the front door close and listened as Louisa turned the key in the lock.

She walked to the living room window and stood so Louisa could see that she was in the house. A fake smile on her face, Kathie Mae waved at Louisa. “

“Caged birds don’t sing, Louisa. They dress as puppets without souls,” Kathie Mae murmured while waving to Louisa.

Kathie Mae went back to the sofa to sit before the window, so Cesare could see her when he came and looked at the window from the sidewalk.  He would wave. She would wave back. He would walk up the steps and open the door to the cage and say ‘darling ‘before he locked the cage for the weekend.

Having entered into this world early on a Tuesday morning, I am an early getter-upper. Getting up pass seven in the morning gives me the feeling of having missed some part of the day. So, I am usually up and about by five in the morning.

As a writer and singer this sometimes bring me into conflict with myself. If I am in my world, my writing flows and time does not exist. I’ve stepped outside of time zone and before I know it, the next day has appeared.

According to some people in the medical field, eight hours of sleep a day is mandatory for the human being. If so, then I differ from the norm. I have appointments to be at, practices for concerts, or have tasks and responsibilities that only I can settle.

Thus, the website project the image of me as a writer and may sometime connect with my musical world. So many times, we think that artists do not encounter the daily challenges, frustrations, problems, and disappointments that everyone else encounters. But that is not true. Artists who strive for excellence  grapple with challenges, changes, disappointments, frustrations, hurts and loss. We go through deep valleys.

Our success does not lie in the fact that these things are alien to our lives, but to the fact that we are learning how to master them, by facing daily the events that confront us, even if we are afraid of the outcome.

Shalom aleichem,

Pat Garcia